Bundles of Unjoy

Normally during the winter, we dress the kids in the least amount of winter gear as possible when we don’t expect them to be exposed to the elements for very long at all.  These would include times like when we take them to school (no waiting for a bus) or to the grocery store (they oftentimes sucker me into going… “we’ll be good,” they insist) or to Grandma’s.  Putting them in anything more than a coat and a hat or hood is too much work on both ends (putting on and taking off) for the benefit, not the mention the angst that would surely ensue in the car if a mitten would fall off mid-drive or the knot of a scarf would feel bumpy behind a head in the car seat.

On Monday (actually, Sunday night), we were hit with a freeze not seen in Chicago for 20 years.  A “polar vortex,” they’re calling it, whatever that means.  Temperatures plummeted to the negative teens, and wind chills got as low as 40-50 degrees below zero.  People were told to basically just stay inside.  Businesses were either closed or had encouraged their employees stay home to either work there or even take the day off.  Trains were delayed.  Many schools were closed.  The Leatherkids’ school, however, remained open.

Unless otherwise planned or hit with a sickness, if their school is open, the Leatherkids will be there.

So Dan and I sent our kids to school and worked from home on Monday and again on Tuesday.  Given the sub-zero temperatures, our normal winter gearing wouldn’t be sufficient; so we insisted on boots (and put shoes to change into in their backpacks), a hat and the hood, mittens and a scarf (well, Ella managed to talk me out of her scarf Monday afternoon and Tuesday).  And we carried snow pants to school just in case.  We wanted every part of their bodies covered.  That’s a lot of stuff.

The Leatherkids were either genuinely not bothered by all of the gear (yeah, right) or they were incredibly distracted by the excitement of the cold weather.  The only complaint we got about all of the gear both days was Ella’s – the scarf, tied so loosely around her neck that it was virtually ineffective, was supposedly making her choke.  She actually made little choking sounds when she had the scarf on.  “Eh, eh… I’m choking,” she said.  “Eh, eh.”

Today, with temperatures supposed to be above zero, Dan and I both planned on actually going in to work.  It would be the first time doing so since before the holidays, which meant we’d be a little rusty with the whole coordination and execution of the morning routine, pressed for time because trains run on a schedule and, well, you can’t be a minute late for a train or you don’t catch it.

We winter geared the kids up the same way we had yesterday and Monday (except for Ella’s scarf, of course).  No one complained.  We winter geared ourselves up, too – it would be a cold walk from our car to the train, and waiting for the train to arrive was entirely likely.

Winter gearing up is exhausting, really.  So much work just to be undone once inside again… and to be repeated at the end of the day.

The undoing is a lot of work, too, particularly with kids who aren’t fully independent, who can’t tie shoes just yet and especially with a kid who has to have his shoelaces tied and tucked in a very specific way.  Throw in a Mommy and Daddy having a train to catch and the work becomes incredibly stressful as well.

Today, I was chosen to take Cal to his room and de-winter gear him; Dan would do so for Ella.  Once in his room, we de-geared.  The hat came off first, followed by the coat.  We tried to take the mittens off before the coat; but they were so tucked into the sleeves of the coat that they wouldn’t budge.  With the coat off, the mittens came off easily.  We shoved all of this and his backpack into a cubby he shares with a classmate, a cubby too small to hold all of Cal’s gear much less Cal’s and his classmate’s.

“Do you have a carpet where you put your boots?” I asked Cal.  Ella does.  It’s a great idea, a way to contain the wet, dirtiness boots bring with them.

“No,” Cal wasn’t sure what I was talking about, so clearly his class doesn’t have a boot carpet.

I grabbed a chair for Cal to sit on while I shoed him and told him to sit on it and take his boots off while I unknotted the mess of shoelaces from yesterday’s wearing.  Turns out, this wasn’t as difficult as it appeared it would be – the knots were loose.  Once untied, I loosened up the shoes for easy slipping on, bent down in front of Cal and started the shoeing process.  This process must be strictly followed and carefully executed so as to avoid a reaction, a really bad “the-sky-is-falling” type of meltdown, if a shoe doesn’t look or feel right.

Slip on shoes.

Straighten out shoe’s tongue and pull it taught.

Take a breath.

Tighten laces, but not too tight.

Feel Cal staring at my hands as they worked on his laces.

Take a breath.

Gently tie laces in a double knot.

Respond to Cal’s “tuck them in, Mommy” with a patient, “I know, I will, Cal."  It's funny that he feels like he needs to tell me how he wants his shoes every time I tie them.  I learned quickly with the first meltdown over a year ago.

Grab all four sets of strings (two loops, two ends) and tuck them all under a tightly-pulled section near the end of laces, closest to the toe.

Take a breath and ask, “how’s that?”

Handle delayed response patiently despite thoughts like, "this is nuts" or “hurry, I have a train to catch” bouncing around in my head.

Hear Cal’s “good” response and repeat the whole process with the second shoe.

With Cal de-winter geared and shoed, we headed to a different room, the room where we drop him off on the “early” days, or days that we beat most people to school.  As we did so, Cal stepped oddly with one of his feet.  Oh, oh, I thought to myself.  Please be okay… please be okay… He started to say something about his shoe but stopped himself for some reason.  Whew.  We made it to his drop-off room and said our goodbyes for the day; and I quickly scurried down the hallway and out the front door to find Dan waiting for me in the running car.

I love so much about winter, but gearing the kids up so they can be exposed to and not be damaged by the winter elements is so much work.  Gear alone, it's probably tolerable; but throw in their quirks and sensitivities, and it becomes a stressful scenario with a high risk of meltdown to avoid if at all possible.  And with a train to catch?  Frankly, that we actually caught the train we were targeting this morning is nothing short of a miracle.